No Easy Task
by lawslave
Summary: No task is ever simple, especially for Nick. A simple trip to the bank goes bad.
1. Chapter 1

Title: No Easy Task

Author: lawslave

Category: General/Angst

Spoilers: General, but no specific spoilers

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. I just like to play with them.

Warnings: Only for foul language.

Summary: No task is ever simple, especially for Nick.

Eight hours they had spent going over the crime scene. Who would have thought anyone could become so enraged at a "Quince" party, of all things? Worse yet, who thinks anyone would pack a gun to a girl's coming out party? Yet they spent eight long hours at a second story ballroom in a strip-mall talking to everyone of the 150 guests, check that, make it 147 guests that may have witnessed the scuffle that turned into a shooting between 5 teenage boys right before the end of the party. Three were dead and three party-crashing murderers were missing in action along with the weapons. The shell casings that were left behind almost blending in with the gold confetti thrown when the Quinceñiera had made her appearance at the party. That had been fun to collect.

But here they were, back in the lab bringing in every bit of evidence they had collected from the ballroom. Nick followed behind Warrick and Greg, each carrying there own banker's box filled with clues to help, hopefully, in figuring out who killed their victims and where they could find them. No chance they were heading home with the end of shift quickly approaching. This was surely the sign of another double.

All three marched into one of the larger layout rooms hidden in the back of the lab and tiredly flung each of their boxes on to the work table followed by their jackets.

Greg was feeling especially whiney this morning. "You know it would be nice to just come into work one night and know you're really gonna be able to go home and relax at the _end_ of your shift."

"You want set hours, G, you are in the wrong business," Warrick answered with a smile, "besides, gives you some more time to hang with us and learn from the pros."

Greg let his body fall into the nearest chair and rolled his eyes at Warrick. "The 'pros', yeah, right. I need a day off."

"Come on, Greg, you knew what you were getting into. Missing the old lab days?" Nick asked as he flung his FORENSICS cap onto the table alongside the boxes.

"Hours were nicer…but, you're right, better to be out in the field and away from Hodges. I think I just need some coffee and food I think. What time is it, like 9 am?" Greg sniffed over his right shoulder. "And a shower, too. You guys up for a bite before we get into all this stuff?"

Before any of them could answer, Nick's cell phone chirped. Pulling out the phone and looking at the caller ID, Nick let out an expletive and quickly shoved the annoyance back into his pocket. "Not again. I got to get to the bank."

"Man, you've been saying that for three days now after you get a call on your cell. Who are you avoiding? You got some hottie pulling a fatal attraction on you?" Warrick looked at him quizzically.

"Hottie, no. My 85-year-old grandmother. Dude, she's been calling me everyday for the past week asking if I've cashed the check she sent me for my birthday and 'bought myself something nice'. Sends me $20 every year."

"Nick, man, wasn't your birthday like last month?" Greg asked with a smirk.

"Yeah, and what are you doing taking your old grammas cash?" The same smirk spreading across Warrick's face.

"Don't start. I tried not cashing them a few years back cause I didn't want to take her money. But then she starts calling to ask why I didn't cash it and didn't I want to buy something nice for myself that would remind me of her, blah, blah, blah…"

"Aw, what is little Nicky going to buy with all that money?" Greg mocked and quickly earned him a smack on the head from the Texan.

Greg rubbed his head, "Ow, man. Not my fault you haven't gotten to the bank."

Warrick had a fine idea. "Hey, how about you head over to the bank, deposit that sucker and buy us some grub with that small fortune, bring it back here."

"Buy you guys breakfast? How did my grandmother's gift turn into breakfast for you guys?"

"Well, Nick, if you take Warrick's advice you can now stop avoiding her calls and tell her of the wonderful meal you were able to treat your buddies to because of her." Greg was liking this idea.

"Yeah, okay. I am gonna take a break and get this out of my wallet once and for all. I'll pick up breakfast on the way back – but it's Dutch."

Warrick fumbled through his wallet. "I'm tapped out on cash; haven't had a chance get to an ATM. Spot me for mine and I'll get you later?"

Greg piped in without even pulling his out, "Me too, Nick. Yeah, get you later."

"Right guys, you'll get me later. I believe that one. In that case, you are stuck with whatever I get you. Nice plate of eggs with a side of beans sound good, doesn't it?"

"Nah, man. Please spare us the Texas breakfast, we probably still got another eight hours in the lab." Warrick pleaded.

"Sorry, man. My cash, my choice." Nick grabbed his cap and jacket and walked out of the layout room. "See you in thirty, if I'm lucky. Tell Gris where I am if he asks."

"Will do. Bring something good." Warrick yelled out and followed him in to the hallway. Looking back at Greg, who was sitting at the work table with his head in his hands, he gave the younger criminalist a questioning glare. "You're right."

"'Bout what?"

"Shower would be good for you, Greggo."

Nick pulled into the first spot near the entrance to the bank. He hoped the early hour would mean a quick in-and-out. As soon as he got out of the truck, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket in search of his grandmother's check. So distracted by his search, Nick bumped into two guys that were walking into the bank ahead of him.

Nick apologized. "Sorry, man. Wasn't paying attention."

"S'all right." The smaller guy responded without so much as a glance back at Nick. His big friend was oblivious, seeing as how he seemed to be in a rush to get in line for the tellers, or so Nick thought.

Nick walked in and mumbled a hello to the old guard at the door. Most of the employees were just starting to scamper into work. There was only one, very pregnant account representative sitting at her desk in the open lobby waiting for her first customer to appear. Seeing that the bank was almost empty, Nick went over to one end of the lobby to fill out a deposit slip. He scribbled his account information quickly and walked over to the tellers' line, the big guy the only one waiting. Only one teller working at this early hour. It was then that Nick got a weird feeling. Big guy and his buddy seemed to be dressed oddly. Wearing heavy coats that were two sizes too big, he thought. Like something you'd wear to hide something else. Weird. And they looked pretty disheveled, their long hair kind of hiding their faces under old ball caps. Big guy had what seemed like an empty backpack over his left shoulder. Big guy's friend was over near the entrance reading some account brochures. Something wasn't right.

He was being paranoid, he thought. He just needed to get his thing done here so he could grab some food and head back to the lab. The sooner they got their evidence processed, the sooner they could all go home and get some much needed rest. Nick's thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. He grabbed it out of his pocket and checking the i.d., he saw it was Catherine calling.

"Hey, Cath. What's up?"

"Hey, Nicky. Word around the lab is that you're getting breakfast for graveyard."

Nick shook his head and chuckled. "Is that so?"

"So say my very reliable sources. Grissom, Sara and I are probably pulling a double like you. Being the sweet, consiterate man that you are, you wouldn't mind getting some extra stuff for us, now would you?" he could

"I don't know how reliable those sources of yours really are, but yeah. Flattery will get you anywhere. What are you guys working on that has you putting in the extra time?" He could hear Sara's voice in the background shout something about vegetarian, but Nick continued his chat with Catherine over the B and E turned double homicide, oblivious to what was now going on around him.

The blonde teller finished up with her customer and waved big guy over with a smile and a wave. "Welcome to LV Bank, sir. What can I do for you?" Service with smile.

Big guy walked over to the teller's counter and pulled out what looked like a deposit slip from his backpack and slid it over to the smiling teller. "Just got this one request for you."

The teller opened up the slip of paper and the color drained from her face. She opened her mouth as if to speak but could only look up into the face of big guy with a look of utter shock.

While listening to Catherine go on about their case, the teller's expression caught Nick's attention. All he could think was: _Oh, no. Don't let this be what I think it is._ Nick now ignored Catherine's rant and focused on the scene before him, but still keeping the line connected and the phone to his ear.

"Come on, just be nice and relaxed. I'd like to withdraw some cash." He replied and encouraged her while pawing something under his jacket.

Nick turned to the entrance and could see the smaller guy eyeing his buddy and the teller. Turning back to look back in the same direction, Nick's right hand got a little twitchy, knowing he still had his service weapon on his belt, thankfully hidden from plain view by his jacket.

The teller continued to stand behind the counter in total shock. Much to the disappointment of the big guy. It was at that moment that he decided to scare her into action and proceeded to pull out his gun, all the while trying to shield it from the view of the guard at the entrance.

Seeing that big guy was reaching for something Nick cut Catherine off who was now calling his name and quietly mumbled into his phone. "Cath, LV Bank down the street, we got a problem here."

"Nick? What do you mean you got a problem? What's wrong?" Nick didn't respond and hoped that the situation wouldn't get bad, but his gut was telling him there really was a big problem here. He could hear Catherine continue to question him but kept quiet so as not to draw any attention to himself. His phone remained on just in case he needed to communicate anything else to his colleague.

Nick hoped the teller would just calmly give the robber the cash he wanted and let him walk out of the bank without anyone getting hurt.

The teller opened her drawer and started pulling out bundles of cash one by one. Big guy quickly snatched them from her hand in anticipation of the next wad she pulled out. It was during one of her attempts to pull out a bundle that there was an extra motion made with her hand that caught the attentive robber. The damn alarm.

"What did you just do?" he shouted at the teller.

"N-nothing," she stammered as her eyes brimmed with tears.

That was enough to catch the attention of the guard at the entrance. The 50-something year old guard started approaching the teller all the while placing his hand on his weapon. "Sir, I need you to step away from the teller.."

"Shit," Nick muttered to himself. He lowered the cell phone from his ear and slid his right hand under his jacket.

As the guard started speaking to him, the big guy whirled around and aimed his own gun back at the rent-a-cop, ready for a standoff.

The guard had his own weapon out but failed to realize the little guy that had been hanging out at the entrance pulled a shot gun from under his coat, swiftly bringing it up and pulling the trigger, shooting the guard in the back. The guard fell to the floor, never really knowing what had hit him.

As soon as Nick saw the shotgun come out, his cell phone clattered to the floor, he unclasped his gun and aimed it at the little guy. It was the sound of the shotgun that made him react and he shot once, hitting him in the chest. Little guy jerked back and fell, a complete look of shock on his face.

"No!" Big guy screamed as he saw his accomplice fall back to the floor and instinctively turned in Nick's direction and fired.

The left side of Nick's body jerked back and his gun fell from his hand as he stumbled backwards to the floor.

The few people in the bank screamed at the sound of gunfire and ran for cover. The teller and a few other bank employees who were behind the teller's desk at the time ran into a back office and locked themselves behind a secured door. The pregnant service rep, not able to move as quicky, took cover under her desk.

Big guy ignored the employees and ran to pick up Nick's discarded gun and then dashed to his fallen friend. "Tommy, you okay? Hey, look at me!" Big guy grabbed his partner's head with both hands trying to get him to focus on him. His friend's eyes were wide open.

"Hey, man. Tommy, look at me! You're gonna be fine okay. I'm gonna get you outta here." Big guy tried reassuring his friend, but there was an undeniable tremble in his voice.

Tommy slowly shook his head and sadly looked into his partner's eyes. "I told you, Jack. This wasn't a good idea." As soon as those words left his mouth, the man's head went still and his eyes dead.

Nick clumsily sat up, panting for air and grabbing at his shoulder and the intense pain radiating from it. He could feel a wetness spread across the back of his shoulder. It was a through and through, he thought to himself. Trying to figure out what to do no that he was unarmed, Nick spotted his cell phone a few feet away from him and could just barely hear Catherine's alarmed voice emanating from the slim device. He slowly scooted near his phone, grasped it and scooted back against the teller's counter in search of something to lean up against. He placed the phone on the floor, between him and the bottom of the counter, hoping his friend could still hear what was going on, in the hopes it might provide some help in getting him out of this mess.

"No, damn it! Don't do this!" An intense anger radiated from the Jack upon seeing Tommy die. He clenched his jaw and turned his head in Nick's direction. "Son of a bitch!" Jack pushed himself off the floor and stormed towards Nick. He reached into his pocket and pulled out Nick's weapon and pointed it at the young man's head.

Nick looked straight in to the man's eyes, lifted hand from his wound held it out in front of himself in a silent plea for him to stop. Knowing that vocally begging for his life may or may not get help him any more than his feeble impersonation of a crossing guard, he found his voice. "Wait! Man, don't do this! Please!"

Those words fell on deaf ears and Jack was poised to blow away the man that had killed his friend. But as he stomped closer, the insignia on Nick's hat caught his attention and he stopped. "You're a fuckin' cop!?! You're god damn fuckin cop!?!

"No, wait." Nick pleaded, hoping he could explain he wasn't really a cop. He hardly had a chance to get those two words out before Jack lowered the gun and pulled his right leg back for a powerful kick aimed right at Nick's ribs.

Nick remembered the way his ribs felt after he cracked them falling out of the second story window thanks to Nigel Crane. Thing then was that he was unconscious as soon as it happened and he didn't wake up until he was in the hospital. Nick would be lucky if he only suffered cracked ribs, but this time he was privileged enough to feel them getting hurt one kick at a time. Even though he knew it was coming, the first kick shocked the hell out of Nick. He could swear he heard a rib crack. Didn't help his shoulder at all either. The first kick sent Nick completely to the floor and into a fetal position, vainly trying to get whatever oxygen he could into his lungs. He tried to brace himself for a slew of kicks he knew were coming.

Jack was in a blind rage. This asshole had killed his friend. And he was a fucking cop on top of it all. He wasn't stupid. If he didn't get out of this, he'd obviously land in jail, probably for the rest of his life. But killing a cop, that would get him the needle. No, he wasn't so stupid to just whack this guy knowing he was a cop, but he sure as hell was going to make him hurt as much as he could. The bastard killed Tommy.

Jack belted out 7 successive kicks. Most hitting Nick squarely in his ribs and abdomen. The panting man didn't even know what pain was until one kick went right for his injured left shoulder. The lack of oxygen and pain spreading across his torso was causing his vision to gray out. Although a welcome relief, Nick fought to stay conscious, not know what this man was going to do next. His efforts were futile, though, as Jack delivered his last blow to the "cop's" head. Then everything went black.

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

Title: No Easy Task

Chapter 2

Catherine walked into the break room after arriving from the B and E/double homicide she had spent hours processing with Sara and Grissom. Coffee was all she needed. Upon entering the break room, she came across Warrick and Greg duking it out with some football videogame Greg had recently become obsessed with. The two men were like children, goading each other with every move they managed their video counter-parts to make.

"Hey, guys. What are you still doing here? Is the teen party homicide keeping you on the clock?"

Warrick and Greg didn't even so much as make eye contact with Catherine, but managed to acknowledge the redhead with a "hey" in unison.

"Geez, guys. Take a break will you. Just so you know, Grissom's on his way in here and he wasn't exactly in the best of moods, so I'd turn that off before he gets here."

Warrick took note of her warning. "Yeah, gotcha, Catherine. I'll finish whooping your ass later, man."

"Sure, Warrick. You're lucky Gris is moody, man, cause your ass was already mine."

"Moody, Greg? What, may I ask, would have you calling me 'moody'? Maybe the fact that you're in here playing games instead of working on processing the, what, three boxes of evidence I see in the layout room?" Grissom looked none too pleased. Greg just looked down right petrified at having been caught playing video games and talking about Grissom.

"I...uh...nothing….right, three boxes, I'll get right on it." Greg left the break room as quickly as his feet could carry him. Even as he walked down the hall, he could feel Grissom's eyes following him.

Warrick felt for the younger man and spoke up. "Hey, Gris, we just got back. Taking a quick break. Nick went to get some breakfast and then we're going to get started on everything we brought back."

Sara walked in and her ears perked up at the mention of breakfast. "Hey, Nick's getting everyone food? I want in. Where'd he go?"

"Yeah, you guys should've called us. Shouldn't leave us out!" Catherine chided.

"Not sure where he went. Had to stop by the bank, get some cash, then he was picking something up. Fast." The "fast" was meant for Grissom's benefit.

"I'm gonna give him a call, let him know there are a few more bellies he can fill." Catherine proceeded to dial Nick's number in the hopes she could catch him before he left whatever "gourmet" place he chose to get breakfast from.

On the second ring, she heard him pick up. "Hey, Cath. What's up?"

"Hey, Nicky. Word around the lab is that you're getting breakfast for graveyard." She was unable to hide the smile in her voice.

"Is that so?"

"So say my very reliable sources. Grissom, Sara and I are probably pulling a double like you. Being the sweet, considerate man that you are, you wouldn't mind getting some extra stuff for us, now would you?"

"I don't know how reliable those sources of yours really are, but yeah. Flattery will get you anywhere. What are you guys working on that has you putting in the extra time?"

"Remember I'm vegetarian, Nick." Sara shouted from her position in front of the coffee maker, hoping Nick would bring back something appetizing.

"The B and E call Sara got turned out to be a double. Grissom and I were there helping her process the scene. Turns out one of the victims is the son of a friend of the Sheriff's. Great, isn't it? What will already be a complicated homicide investigation is only going to get more muddled up by what I am sure will be the Sheriff's poking his nose into every lead we follow and every suspect we investigate. I think he's already trying to spin the friend's son off as an innocent victim in all of this, but some of the stuff we collected on the scene doesn't look good for the kid. Guess we'll just have to wait and see." Catherine poured herself some coffee while relaying the little information they had so far.

Either Nick was distracted by what he was doing or he was ignoring her, because he hadn't said a word since she started describing the case to him. "Nick, you there?" She could hear someone talking the in background, so she knew the call hadn't been dropped. "Hellooo?"

That's when she heard Nick mumble something in a very low voice. "Cath, LV Bank down the street, we got a problem here."

"Nick? What do you mean you got a problem? What's wrong?" The sound of his voice made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She cared for all the guys on the team, but she was always a little more protective of Nick, especially after the Dylan Buckley case and the secret Nick had shared with her. And right now there was something wrong. Only she couldn't get any more information from Nick on what was wrong.

The tone of Catherine's voice more than the question of "what's wrong" immediately caught the three other criminalists' attention. Grissom was the first to ask. "Catherine, what's wrong?"

She faced the others. "I don't know. We were talking one second, next thing I know he's mumbling 'LV Bank down the street, we got a problem here'."

She turned her back to try and get Nick back on the phone. "Nick? Hey, Nicky? What's going on? I need more info here, help me out." That's when she heard it. Gunshots. Sounded like a shotgun at first, but then there were two more shots and the sound of the phone clattering to the floor. "Oh, Jesus."

Catherine's face went pale as Warrick went around to face her. "Catherine, what's going on?"

"I...I don't know. I heard gun shots, three gunshots and it sounded like he dropped the phone."

"What do you mean gunshots?" Grissom questioned her.

"Gil, I know about as much as you do. I can hear yelling in the background. I don't know what's going on." She took a few steps away from Grissom and Warrick to try and concentrate on what she was hearing. She could hear a man yelling and the sound of someone panting. "Nick? Nicky are you there?"

"I'm not dropping the line, it's still connected. Gil, you need to call Jim and ask him to send an officer to the LV Bank down the street, make sure everything's alright. That's where he said he was."

Grissom was already pulling out his cell phone but stopped mid-dial when he heard a gasp from Catherine. "What is it? What do you hear?"

"Someone's asking if he's a 'god damn cop.' I don't know, sounded like Nick saying 'wait' and….sounds like someone's getting beaten. Call Jim now!"

-------------------------------------------------------

He could hear the sound of someone whimpering and the faint sound a sirens. Teller must have really hit the silent alarm. Daring to open his eyes, he could see the robber named Jack pacing back and forth and cursing to himself in the middle of the lobby. He figured he must not have been out that long because he could see that Jack was still a little agitated and out of breath from his attempts to use him as a kickball.

The whimpering was coming from his right. He tried turning his head to see who was next to him, but he wasn't prepared for the blast of pain the simple task caused. He took in a few quick breaths and tried to assess all the different areas that were hurt: shoulder – burning pain from the gunshot wound; chest and abdomen – 5 or 6 kicks probably broke something in there again, causing pain to come with each breath; head – kick causing brief unconsciousness, possible concussion and a spitting headache. He slowly attempted to get up. He did not want to be in a totally defenseless position if this guy focused on him again.

Getting to a sitting position took forever, or so he thought. Once up, he could see the pregnant bank employee sitting on the ground next to him. She was the one crying. Being the ever dependable, compassionate guy that he was, he placed his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. It'll be okay. Mary, my name's Nick." Even though his vision was a little blurry, he could read her name tag.

Mary was trying to control herself while rubbing her round belly. "I thought he killed you."

"I' okay. It's gonna be okay. Sounds like the police are close by."

Mary whispered, "I don't want anything to happen to my baby." Fresh tears were spilling down her cheeks.

"It'll be okay, we'll get you out. I won't let him hurt you." Mary gave him a sad smile, not entirely sure he would be able to help considering the way he looked, but she was appreciative of his efforts to assure her.

Jack heard them speaking to each other in hushed tones and rushed over to them. "Shut up! Don't be planning any great escapes or I just might not hesitate to shoot you this time!"

"She's just scared. She's pregnant. Let her go, please."

Jack cocked the gun and aimed it at Nick again. "I told you to shut up! Damn cops are out there already. I'm the one that decides who leaves and only when it's for my benefit."

Peering across the lobby and through the slightly open blinds of the glass walls of the lobby, Nick could make out what appeared to be several police cars and cops running around trying to figure out what was going on inside. Looking at the front doors of the bank, it appeared that Jack had pushed one of the customer service rep's desks in front of the glass doors. Taking in the rest of the scene, he saw that the guard was still exactly where he had gone down, but Jack's partner had been moved away from where he fell near the entrance over to the far end of the lobby. Nick was adjusting his position when his thumb brushed across the smooth plastic of his cell phone. As casually as he could, Nick looked down to see the phone still on and with the call timer ticking away, still connected to Catherine . If someone was listening on the other end, maybe it would help them figure out what was going on in here and help him and Mary get out of here altogether.

Nick needed to get as much info to the outside on who was in here. "Name's Jack right? It's just the three of us in here, okay. Let her go. You can use me for whatever you need. I won't fight back. Can't really anyway."

"What are you, stupid? Or do you just have some sort of a death wish? I told you to shut up. Your buddies are already out there. Probably planning on storming in here. I'm not letting them take me down that easy!" Jack continued to pace the lobby all the while trying to eye the scene outside the bank.

"No, listen. I just don't want anyone to get hurt. They won't come in here without trying to talk to you first. They want this to end peacefully. You should want this to end peacefully. It will be better for you, Jack."

"And what the hell would you know about what's good for me, huh? This couldn't have gone any worse than it did. You killed my buddy and I shot you. You and you're cop friends are just gonna make sure the judge locks me in prison and throws away the key. No, I'm gonna get outta here if I can."

"That's not true. I can help you. Just need to show them you're willing to work with them, not hurt anybody and end this situation."

"Yeah, what are you, some sort of hostage negotiator? You trying to work me over? That's something, real rich. We try robbing a bank, end up getting stuck with hostages and one of them turns out to be a police negotiator." A disbelieving laugh erupted from Jack's lips.

"Jack, I'm not a hostage negotiator, I'm not a police officer. I'm a crime scene investigator. I just want for this to end." Nick was starting to sweat bullets, what with the pain he was experiencing. With his injured ribs, talking was getting a little difficult too. But he needed to get through to this guy. Make him know he wasn't a threat. Well, at least not anymore since he'd been disarmed.

"Crime scene? You're a fingerprint guy? What the hell does the fingerprint guy go around carrying a gun for? Call yourself whatever you want, you're a cop. And you made this a lot worse for me. Now shut up and let me think!"

Tbc

Comments welcomed…


	3. Chapter 3

Title: No Easy Task

Chapter 3

"Call Jim now!"

Grissom immediately finished dialing Brass's number. As it started ringing, Grissom's mind started racing through the possible scenarios one of his guys could be dealing with. If Catherine was right in assuming it was gunshots she heard, a bank and gunfire would not make for a happy situation. Right now, he only hoped Nick was not the target of any of those 3 shots. Despite the fact that he was not a man to jump to conclusions, the fact that Nick was not responding on the other end left a terrible feeling lingering in the pit of his stomach. Thoughts of Amy Hendler crept into his mind.

On the fourth ring, he finally got an answer. "Brass."

"Jim, I think we have a problem."

"I'd say we have a problem. It's after the end of shift for both of us and we still seem to be at work, right?"

"Brass, I need you to listen. I need you to check if you have any calls from or alarms activated at the LV Bank a couple of blocks north of the lab."

"What? Why?" Grissom's voice usually carried a serious tone to it that were all used to, but this was different.

"Short story – Nick was at the bank, on the phone with Catherine. She heard gunfire and she's not hearing much else right now. If something's going on, we need to get over there. Now."

"Nick? Shit. Hold on a sec. Let me make a call on the other line."

Grissom tiredly rubbed at his beard while waiting to get an answer from Brass. "Catherine, do you hear anything?"

"No. I don't know. Someone muttering something. It sounds too far away." Catherine lifted her right hand to cover her free ear in an effort to try and make out what she was hearing. Sounded like something heavy was being moved.

Warrick and Sara stood between him and Catherine not sure of what was going on, their heads turning from Gil to Catherine as each spoke. Finding the situation playing out in the break room a little ridiculous, Warrick felt there was a simpler way to find out what was going on. "I'm going over there. If this some joke, I'm dragging Nick's ass back here and making him process all three of those damn boxes on his own and making him pay for lunch too."

Grissom put a hand on the taller man's shoulder. "Warrick wait, I think Jim's coming back on."

"Yeah, we got a silent alarm pulled over at the LV Bank. We got officers on the way. Considering how close that is, should already be there. I'm headed there now." Brass' voice was agitated. Last thing anyone wanted was an officer involved shooting anywhere, much less a public place like a bank with civilians surely around.

"So are we. Catherine's going to stay here, keep the line open. Maybe we can figure out what's going on." With that Grissom disconnected the call and headed out of the break room with Warrick and Sara in tow.

"Wait, Grissom, I want to go with you." Catherine shook her head as she followed her colleagues out.

Grissom turned to face her, with a calm but pleading expression. "Catherine, you need to be our ears into what's going on in there. Make sure you keep the phone charged and let's hope Nick's phone has plenty of power. No telling how long this may go. Find Archie, connect it to an amplified cell phone microphone. Maybe it'll help you hear more of what's going on. Call us as soon you start hearing anything."

He turned to Warrick and Sara. "Let's go over there." The three hurriedly made their way down the hallways of the lab.

Catherine nodded. She didn't like it. But she also wanted to know what was going on in there and to know Nick was alright. With that in mind, she made a beeline for the A/V lab and found Archie going through some surveillance tapes. Still holding her phone to her ear, she said, "Archie, I need you to drop everything you're doing. Need you to hook up my cell phone to audio and amplify what's going on on the other end."

The Asian man looked up questioningly and stammered just a bit. "Well…but I was just finishing up some tapes Grissom told me were priority number one."

"Archie, this is priority number one. There's a bank robbery in progress down the street, Nick's there and this is our only link to what's going on inside." Nothing more needed to be said. The tech quickly shut off the tapes he was viewing and began setting up the needed audio equipment to record and amplify the sounds being picked up by the cell phone.

Greg was walking by the lab with several dozen sealed evidence bags in his arms. "Hey Catherine, have you seen Warrick? Thought we'd start on this stuff until Nick got here with the food."

"About that, Greg, I need you to go to my desk, top drawer, left-hand side. Get me my phone charger and bring it back here. There's a problem." She continued to briefly explain what was happening. Brief was the only kind of explanation she could give at the moment. Greg's forehead wrinkled up as he took in the news. This was more important. He placed his evidence on the table behind Archie's workstation and headed out to find the charger.

"Okay, Catherine, I'm ready. Let me have the phone, I'll hook it up and we'll have this in surround sound in a second." Catherine momentarily gave up her only link to Nick. Archie worked quickly to connect the phone and did so in a matter of seconds.

"Okay, we're up."

"Thanks, Archie." Catherine let out a tired sigh. She and Archie stood in front of his computer screen as the software monitored every sound that was picked up. Even though the sounds were amplified, they both leaned in towards the computer hoping to pick something up.

Greg ran back into the A/V lab and handed the charger to Catherine. "Hear anything?"

"Yeah, sounds like someone's crying. It's a little low, but sounds like a woman. A customer or bank employee, maybe? Whoever that is, they just got closer to the phone. Other than that, some background noise, far away talking." She plugged the charger into the phone and then the charger into the outlet towards the back of Archie's desk. Greg pulled up two chairs, just in case they were here for a while. "Thanks, Greg."

After a few minutes, they heard something else. A gasp or maybe a grunt? It was definitely male. Sounded like someone closer to the phone was moving. After a few more minutes, Catherine closed her eyes in relief. She could hear Nick speaking to someone. His voice wasn't as low and not as strong as she would like to hear, but it was him. They each strained closer to hear what was being said. Nick was trying to reassure someone. Probably a fellow hostage. Probably the crying woman. But it was the woman's whimpers about her baby that made Catherine shutter. Maybe she had a child with her there at the bank? She quickly picked up the phone and dialed Grissom.

"Grissom."

"It's me. We're hooked up. We can hear Nicky. Sounds a little weak, but it's him. He seems to be talking to a woman, probably another hostage. She said something about a baby. Let Jim know there may be a child in there too.

"What else…" Grissom didn't have a chance to finish his question before he was cut-off.

"Gil wait, someone's yelling." A male voice. Then Nick spoke.

"_Shut up! Don't be planning any great escapes or I just might not hesitate to shoot you this time!"_

"_She's just scared. She's pregnant. Let her go, please."_

"_I told you to shut up! Damn cops are out there already. I'm the one that decides who leaves and only when it's for my benefit."_

"_Name's Jack right? It's just the three of us in here, okay. Let her go. You can use me for whatever you need. I won't fight back. Can't really anyway."_

"_What are you, stupid? Or do you just have some sort of a death wish? I told you to shut up. Your buddies are already out there. Probably planning on storming in here. I'm not letting them take me down that easy!" _

"_No, listen. I just don't want anyone to get hurt. They won't come in here without trying to talk to you first. They want this to end peacefully. You should want this to end peacefully. It will be better for you, Jack."_

"_And what the hell would you know about what's good for me, huh? This couldn't have gone any worse than it did. You killed my buddy and I shot you. You and you're cop friends are just gonna make sure the judge locks me in prison and throws away the key. No, I'm gonna get outta here if I can."_

"_That's not true. I can help you. Just need to show them you're willing to work with them, not hurt anybody and end this situation."_

"_Yeah, what are you, some sort of hostage negotiator? You trying to work me over? That's something, real rich. We try robbing a bank, end up getting stuck with hostages and one of them turns out to be a police negotiator." _

"_Jack, I'm not a hostage negotiator, I'm not a police officer. I'm a crime scene investigator. I just want for this to end."_

"_Crime scene? You're a fingerprint guy? What the hell does the fingerprint guy go around carrying a gun for? Call yourself whatever you want, you're a cop. And you made this a lot worse for me. Now shut up and let me think!"_

"Gil, I think Nick knows we're listening. He's painting a pretty clear picture of what's going on. He keeps calling the guy Jack, one robber. He's in there with one other hostage, a pregnant woman. This Jack guy is agitated, already sees the police outside the bank. He's trying to calm the guy down. Convince him to end this peacefully. He's trying to get him to release the woman and to keep him. Said he wouldn't fight back, that he couldn't fight back."

Grissom exhaled noisily into the phone. "We just got here. Police _are_ already here too. I need to go find Jim and get this info to him. Stay on the line with me." And she did so patiently because she wasn't hearing anything else from her cell phone.

Tbc

More comments welcomed…

Notes: Trying to slow the story down and put a little more detail in as was suggested, even though I already have an ending in mind that I am eager to get to. Hopefully that notion is coming through, at least a little, with this third chapter. Let me know! I am proofing on my own, so hopefully there aren't too many errors. Sorry for any I left in there. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Title: No Easy Task

Chapter 4

Nick sat quietly on the cold marble floor trying to think. Think of how he could convince Jack to let Mary go. Think of what he could do to get out of here in no worse shape than he already was. Think whether his friends had figured out the trouble he was in, whether they were listening to his cell. Hell, just trying to think of anything that would get his mind off of the pain in his shoulder, the pain in his chest, and let's not forget the pain in his head. He reached up to feel the knot that was forming on his forehead.

They'd been sitting in silence for a while now. He wasn't sure how long. It was an eerie sort of quiet too. He no longer heard police sirens. All units dispatched to the scene where surely already outside, having taken their positions and just waiting for instructions from their superiors on how to proceed. Even the bank's telephones had gone quiet. He wondered if maybe the police were trying to get a direct line to one of the phones in the lobby in an attempt to eventually contact the ring leader of this little gathering.

Nick looked over at the brunette sitting quietly on the floor next to him. Mary didn't look like she could be much older than he was. Tear tracks marked her cheeks. She had stopped crying, but only out of fear that doing so would illicit more anger from their hostage-taker. She continued to unconsciously rub at her stomach while following Jack with her eyes as he moved around the small lobby. She seemed pretty together right now. Nick tried figuring how far along she was. Something he was surprisingly good at considering he didn't have any kids of his own and had no day-to-day experience with pregnant women. But he did have 5 sisters. Five sisters who had given birth to nine of his eleven nieces and nephews. And although he lived in a different state than they did and didn't see them everyday, he was the recipient of many, many e-mails attaching a plethora of pictures of them and their families in everyday life and at all sorts of events, all with detailed explanations of what was going on. They were all close and kept in touch as best they could. E-mails and pictures being the most popular choice. His e-mails to them not carrying so many attachments as theirs to him. All he ever did was work, catch a beer and some sports game with the guys, and go on the occasional date. What was he supposed to do, send a photo of his most recent date gone bad or his latest crime victim? Come to think of it, he couldn't really think of a time in the last twelve years or so when someone in his family wasn't pregnant. Seemed to be one right after the other. Like they all took turns, drew straws or something. He hoped his turn would come someday.

"Nick?" Mary's whisper brought him back to the present. He looked at her quizzically, not wanting to do too much talking if he could help it. Not only because of the effort involved, but because he didn't want Jack getting upset at them again. At least not before he could figure out what he could say to the man.

"Are you okay?" That surprised him a little. He's actually extremely concerned about being able to get her out of the bank and here she was asking him if he was okay.

A small smile spread across his lips. "Yeah. Yeah, Mary. I'm fine."

"I don't believe you. Sound like my oldest. He always has to be tough." Her eyes twinkled at the thought of her child.

"How old is he?"

"He's fifteen. Have a daughter too, twelve."

"Wow. That's some age gap. At least you'll have babysitters."

"Yeah. This one," she looked down and patted the belly hidden under a blue cardigan, "was a complete shock."

"I'll bet. What, about 7 months?"

Mary tilted her head to one side, a stunned look extending across her face. "How'd you know? You have kids?"

"Nah, but I do have lots of sisters, lots of nieces and nephews." Nick straightened his back against the counter and grimaced once again at the pain the movement caused.

"Are you still bleeding?"

He looked to his left shoulder and lifted the lapel of his jacket to peer inside at the wound. "I think it's slowed down some. It'll stop."

Mary started unbuttoning the cardigan she wore, revealing a knit tank-top of the matching color underneath, and removed the garment. "Do you think you could lean forward a little bit?"

Unsure of what she was attempting, he asked her why.

"Let me wrap it under your arm and around your shoulder, put some pressure on it and stop the bleeding." Her demeanor seemed to have shifted from frightened-hostage to worried-mother almost instantly.

"You don't need to do that. I'll be fine." He was embarrassed to think she was spending a single second worrying about him.

"I told you, I've heard that before and I don't believe it. Besides, my hormones have got me sweating a little. Needed to take it off. Take my mind off having to pee too. Maybe it'll do you a little good. Now, forward."

"Yes, mam." A genuine smile spread across Nick's face before he grunted at having to move. Mary liked him. He was a polite and considerate young man who made you want to take care of him. She hoped they could both escape this alive.

"What are you up to now?"

Mary startled a little at the sound of Jack's voice. Her demeanor almost completely creeping back to frightened-hostage as she turned the cardigan into a crude bandage around Nick's shoulder. "He, he's still bleeding."

"We're not trying anything, I swear." A pained Nick assured man.

Jack opened his mouth to speak, probably reprimand them again, but was cut-off by the sound of a man speaking through a bull horn outside. Nick recognized the voice and, in fact, was relieved to hear that voice.

-------------------------------

Warrick had driven them to the bank. They rode in silence, each lost in their own thoughts over the situation. When they had arrived, they found the street in front of the bank had been blocked off to traffic. Emergency vehicles were littered all over the street and parking lot. The officers standing guard around the perimeter had recognized the African-American behind the wheel and lifted the crime scene tape to allow them to drive forward. Warrick didn't have to pull up too much before having to park the truck. The closest police cruisers were set up about 75 to 100 feet from the entrance of the bank, half way down bank's parking lot so as not to crowd the single-story brick building. Grissom had jumped out of the vehicle before Warrick could even put it in park, his cell phone pressed to his right ear. Warrick clenched his jaw upon recognizing Nick's truck parked right in front of the bank. He shot a look at Grissom and Sara, who simultaneously nodded back at the man in confirmation of the familiar SUV. They walked as quickly as they could across the blacktop, searching for Brass so he could be updated with the information they had received from Catherine. Brass would be in control of the situation, but considering everything was just starting to come together, there was still a bit of chaos. S.W.A.T. had arrived. There were officers escorting civilians from the back of the building to a safe distance from bank. They were even evacuating some of the businesses on either side and across from the bank. Grissom recognized most of the uniformed officers on the scene and was about to ask one about Brass' whereabouts when another detective caught his eye.

"Vartaan! Where's Brass?" Grissom shouted and walked towards the younger detective who was still a good fifty feet away.

Vartaan removed his sunglasses and pointed them to the left. "By S.W.A.T. bus maybe, he was trying to find some of the bank employees that got out and get some info from them. Should be setting up a command post over there too."

The three CSIs went in that direction in search of Jim. They spotted him over at the far end of the parking lot. The frumpy detective was speaking to a distressed blonde. As they approached, they assumed that she must have been inside the bank when the attempted robbery took place. She was crying almost uncontrollably, mascara running down her face along with her tears. Jim placed a hand on her shoulder. They approached quietly in order to hear the conversation between them.

"Miss Stevens, I need you to calm down for me. I need to know what happened in there, tell me how many there were, how many were left inside."

The woman took a few deep breaths and made a big effort to relay the information to the detective. "There were two guys…an- and…they had on trench coats, that's where they hid their g-guns." She let out another sob and then took another calming breath.

"Go on Miss Stevens, you're doing fine." Brass tried to keep her going.

"The bigger one c-came up to the c-counter and pulled out a deposit slip. He had w-written on it that he had a gun a-and he w-wanted me to empty out my d-drawer. It took me a second to do it. I freaked, froze." She had to take several pauses in between sentences to keep her composure, or what there was of it.

Sara clenched her fists at her sides. It took all of her effort to not shake the woman and make her relive the incident faster so they could find out if Nick was okay.

Brass continued to encourage her. "Go on."

"I s-started to pull money out of the drawer and into the guy's b-backpack. At one point I thought I h-had a ch-chance to hit the alarm and I did, b-but he noticed and got a-angry and y-yelled and then his gun came out. That's when Ernie, the guard…" She started to cry again. "Ernie asked him to back-off and the guy turned around and p-pointed his gun back at Ernie. But he's not the one that fired. His p-partner, he was near the e-entrance, he pulled out a sh-shotgun or something and shot Ernie in the back." The crying started once again.

"Miss Stevens, the accomplice, he only fired once? Did anyone else get hurt?"

"Yeah. He only fired once."

The relief was brief upon hearing that he only fired once, but she continued with the story.

"But we had one other cu-customer in line, young guy. He had a black cap, dark hair. It was early so there was h-hardly anyone in the bank at all. When Ernie got shot, he p-pulled out a gun and shot the one near the entrance." The tears continued to fall as the woman got a faraway look. "He shot the other guy, the one that shot Ernie. And then, the one that demanded the money, he yelled and shot the customer with the gun. I s-saw him fall. It all h-happened so fast. The few of us th-that were behind the counter, we ran behind one of the security doors to the back offices and the v-vault. We called 911 and later came out when we saw officers at the back of the bank."

Sara was fighting the urge to cry. From what this woman was saying and the information Catherine had gotten, there was little chance that Nick hadn't gotten hit. Grissom's stony expression didn't reveal any of what he may have been feeling. Warrick however was showing every bit of the anger he was feeling coursing through his body. He started to pace near the group, shaking his head and trying to get a handle on what he had just heard.

"Thank you Miss Stevens. You've been a lot of help. I'm going to have this officer escort you away from here. I'd like for you not to go too far away, just in case we need to talk to you again." Brass' mind raced to the night a few years back when they had just barely gotten to Nick's in time, shocked at seeing the young man struggling with a gun wielding Nigel Crane. They'd prevented him from getting shot then. They were too late now. He turned to face Gil.

"Wait, Detective?" Miss Stevens, a little more composed, had one last thing to add.

"Yes?"

"My co-worker, Mary. She worked upfront in the lobby as an account representative. She's still in there. I'm scared for her. She's seven months pregnant. I don't think she got shot or anything, but she didn't come out with us."

"We'll do our best to get her out, I promise." Brass dismissed her and the uniform and turned again to face Grissom. He ran a hand across his tired face. "Has Catherine heard anything?"

"Her story pretty much confirms everything Catherine thought she heard. She called on the way over here. She could hear Nicky, but he did sound hurt. She also thinks the remaining gunman may have beaten him, hurt him more. Nick may know his phone was still connected. Seemed to be giving us as much information as he could about what was going on in there." Grissom told the older man about the robber's name being Jack, how Nick and the pregnant bank employee were the only hostages and that Nick seemed to be trying to talk the man down.

"Atta boy, Nick. Kid's always thinking."

"Hold on, I still have Catherine on." Grissom turned his attention to his phone.

"Catherine, have you heard anything else."

"_Besides the confirmation you just got? It was quite for a while. Now I can hear Nick and the hostage talking to each other. But nothing but calming assurances. Only confirmation that they're okay, relatively speaking."_

"Okay, thanks Catherine. Call me back if you hear anything important."

"_Gil, we've been connected for almost an hour now. I don't know how much longer we'll be connected."_

"I know. We'll take it as long as we can get it." With that he disconnected the phone.

Vartaan came running over to them. "Captain, we got a direct line set up to the bank. I think we're ready to communicate with them."

"As ready as we'll ever be, I suppose." Brass went to the are set up as a makeshift command post, grabbed a bullhorn and made his way behind the cruiser closest to the entrance of the bank.

Brass's rough voice echoed across to the building. "Whoever you are in there, my name is Jim Brass. I'm with the LVPD. We'd like to talk to you. We're going to be calling you. You can pick up which ever phone rings in the lobby. We want to make sure everyone's alright. We're ready to hear your demands."

tbc

More comments welcomed…


	5. Chapter 5

Title: No Easy Task

Chapter 5

"_Whoever you are in there, my name is Jim Brass. I'm with the LVPD. We'd like to talk to you. We're going to be calling you. You can pick up which ever phone rings in the lobby. We want to make sure everyone's alright. We're ready to hear your demands."_

Jack stood frozen for a minute as the detective's voice echoed from across the parking lot outside. He breathed heavily and his appearance exuded an air of anxiety almost as if the mess he had gotten himself into was finally hitting him. The cops were right outside. There were only two ways to get out of this mess: dead and in a body bag or arrested and thrown in jail for the rest of his life. He wasn't stupid. There was no way they'd just listen to his demands and let him leave. And for what? To spend the rest of his life on the run? If he left with one of the hostages, they'd catch him eventually. How far was he going to get with a pregnant lady or a bleeding cop? They'd just add kidnapping to the charges. He definitely wasn't going to get sympathy from a jury for kidnapping a pregnant woman. This was it. His life was over, any way you looked at it. All he and Tommy wanted to do was get some cash. They had nothing and had been desperate. They figured they'd just scare them a little, get some cash and run. Heck, in all honesty, they had been petrified themselves. But they had had enough of living on hard times. It was the only life they knew. It wasn't fair. When possible, they did odd jobs to earn buck. But everyone tried taking advantage of them, considered them punk-ass kids who didn't know better. Didn't help that they had no place to call home. Just made them assume they lived on the streets because of something they had done wrong. They had resorted to petty thefts here and there to get them through, but it wasn't enough anymore. Petty theft escalated to breaking and entering. Few days before they had waited for some yuppie to leave his Seven Hills house before breaking through a back door. They hoped they'd find some cash, maybe some jewelry, but didn't find anything other than some guns to pawn. Asshole had nothing but some kindergarten artwork and minimal boxy furniture. That was the last straw. He had been the one to think up the bright idea of robbing a bank. Tommy had been hesitant but he had talked him into it only after he told him he'd be the one to get the money from the teller, Tommy would just stand near the entrance as the watch-out. He knew Tommy had his doubts about it. He probably only shot the guard thinking the old man was getting ready to blow him away. He was trying to protect him. Now his friend was dead. Okay. So maybe he was stupid.

"Jack, they want to talk to you." The wounded cop's voice brought him back to the present.

Now he noticed that a telephone was ringing. He looked around, wondering how long he'd been out of it. The cop and the lady were still sitting on the floor. Two uneasy expressions staring back at him. The cop was pale and sweaty from his injuries. The woman, she was just frightened, but he noticed there was an almost air of anger coming off of her. Jack looked to the other side of the room and saw his dead friend. A feeling of suffocation came over him and he hastily shed his overcoat. He yanked the baseball cap along with it and threw them to the floor. With the cap went his long hair. Mary and Nick now saw that the wig of long dark hair had been just part of his disguise and obviously his partner's too. Jack took a few strides over to his friend and covered the top half of the lifeless man's body with the coat. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Nick took in Jack's appearance. Now getting a clearer look at his face, he didn't think it was possible for him to be over 24 or 25 years old. He wore an old tattered black "Metallica" t-shirt, worn and dirty blue jeans and work boots that appeared years old, at the very least. The man's face appeared to be freshly shaven except for some stubble over his lip, but seeing him disguise-free, it was most likely that the young man was just a kid. He almost had a baby face. A kid that made a very unwise decision and had gotten himself into a terrible mess. Hopefully one that didn't cause anyone else to lose their lives. The only menacing thing about him was his size. He was maybe an inch or two taller than Warrick, but carried more weight than his lanky partner. Jack rubbed his left hand across his forehead and back through his short brown hair. This was no longer the angry, ruthless bank robber he appeared to be before. He could hear the wheels turning in the man's head. He was weighing his options on the situation. Jack clenched his jaw over and over, almost as if trying to hold back tears that threatened to fall out of anger at himself and out of loss for his friend. The gun he held in his right hand trembled slightly.

The criminalist hoped the empathy for which he was so often criticized would benefit them. Jack wasn't the victim here and Nick wasn't confusing him for one. But maybe showing him some understanding would help the man and in turn, help him and Mary. And he knew he couldn't totally understand wherever he was coming from, but he would try. Jack seemed to be looking for someone to walk him out of this mess.

Nick eyed the still ringing telephone. "Jack, they want to know everyone here is okay, know what you want so that no one else gets hurt." His voice was soft and encouraging. He kept stressing the theme of 'no one else needs to get hurt.'

Jack looked at him and shook his head. "I don't know what they can do to help me. Think they'll just let me walk out of here?" Uncertainty screamed from his first statement, only to be followed by the hopeful question, even thought he knew it wasn't going to happen.

"Honestly? No. But you need to show them you'll work with them." If he wasn't going to pick up the phone, he was going to keep talking to him.

"Way I see it I'm dead or in prison at the end of this. Not sure which is better. Can't figure it out." The man approached the closed blinds on one side of lobby and carefully peered through them, muttering a curse at seeing the activity outside. "You're a cop. What do they know already?"

"I don't know. I know about as much as you do about what's going on out there."

"You know something. What are they trying to do? Would they know we killed someone already? Are they gonna come storming in here?" The last question coming out urgently.

Nick swallowed and opened his mouth to speak. He was unsure of how to answer the question and not upset the man. "I don't know. If any of the tellers or employees from the back got out or called them and if any of them saw what happened out here, then they may know. They may know how many people are in here with you. Mary here, she's an employee. If she's not accounted for, they'll assume she's in here, I guess. Chances are they surrounded the building, but now they just want to establish communication. You should talk to them, man. Jim Brass, the guy you heard? He's a good man. Won't yank your chains. You can trust him." That took a lot out of him.

"And say what? I shot a cop. I tell them that, there's no way I'm outta here alive." He was getting upset again.

"No, Jack. No. That's not true. They won't shoot you if you turn yourself in _unarmed._ You need to show you are no longer a threat. I won't let them shoot you or anyone else. I'll do it with you. We'll show them you're not a threat."

That last word set him off. "I was never a threat! We weren't going to shoot anyone! We just wanted to get the money and run, but that stupid old man fucked everything up!" Jack's face flushed. He had gone from anger to insecurity back to full blown agitation. He rushed to the hostages and leaned over Nick, swinging the gun down in his direction as if it would make his point clearer.

Mary jumped as the man approached. Her eyes brimming with tears again. Nick reached over and placed his right arm across Mary's chest in an effort to protect her from the unstable man.

"I know. I know you weren't a threat!" Nick replied.

"If you knew that, why'd you shoot him, huh? If you knew we weren't a threat you wouldn't have shot him and I wouldn't have shot you! It's your fault too!" Jack brought the gun down in one swift swoop hitting Nick across the side of the head. Jack hit Nick so quickly that he fell onto his left shoulder without a chance to pull his arm out to catch himself. The impact left Nick dazed momentarily, but his shoulder and ribs were what were causing him the most pain. He did his best to not vocalize the pain.

In his fury, Jack looked down to the floor between Nick and Mary saw it. A cell phone. He reached down and looked at the screen as Nick slowly sat back up.

"What is this? Is this yours?" He directed the question at Nick without taking his eyes off the screen. "This has been connected for over an hour. Did you know this was on?" Spit shot out of his mouth with every word and his eyes finally glared back at Nick.

Still a little dazed, Nick stammered. "Wha-…I was on before you guys…it fell. I didn't know…" He silently prayed he wasn't going to get hammered again.

"Son of a bitch!" Jack threw the offensive device across the lobby were it hit the far wall and clattered to the floor in several pieces.

Yet the lobby phone continued to ring.

-----------------------------------------------------

Catherine, Greg and Archie sat mesmerized in the A/V lab, listening to the exchange taking place on the other end of the line. For a moment, they felt a ray of hope that this would be resolved quickly and peacefully. Nick was talking to the guy. He was calm and soothing. And for a second, it seemed that this Jack guy was responding to that. But it all seemed to go to hell in a hand basket in no time at all. This guy was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, going from one extreme to another.

Catherine shuttered when they'd heard a sick thud. Someone got hit again and most likely, that someone was Nick. She angrily swiped the loose strands of hair from her face and looked at Greg. His expression was unreadable. But he was nervous. He couldn't sit still in his chair. It reminded her Lindsay when she needed a bathroom break.

The redhead stood abruptly, her breathing speeding up when Jack asked 'What is this?' His voice got louder and clearer and they knew he was holding Nick's phone in his hands.

Nick's voice sounded so far away. And confused. That broke her heart. Her chin wrinkled up as she got the urge to cry. Then the line went dead.

Greg gasped and looked to Catherine, his eyes wide. "What do we do now?"

Catherine grabbed her cell phone, yanking it from where it had been connected to Archie's equipment. "We're going over there." With that she started dialing her supervisor and stormed out of the lab. Greg looked at the stunned tech and ran after her.

Tbc

Thanks for all of the positive reviews and encouraging words. Just got sucked into the whole CSI and CSI fanfiction thing last year. First time writing and posting anything for others to read. Glad people are enjoying this.

As always, more comments welcomed…


	6. Chapter 6

Title: No Easy Task

Chapter 6

The three CSIs stood a safe distance behind Brass at the command center. The detective paced back and forth as he waited for someone to answer inside the bank. But he could only go so far because the phone was tethered to an audio system simultaneously recording and playing the call for others to hear. He'd been letting it ring for a few minutes now and his eyes glanced from the bank's glass doors to Nick's colleagues. A shake of his head in their direction notified them that there was still no connection to the inside. "We're not getting anywhere," he muttered to himself.

It was then that Grissom's phone rang. He stepped away for a moment and answered hoping he'd be more successful than Brass in getting a better picture on what was going on. "Any news, Catherine?"

"Grissom, this guys unstable. Emotions are all over the place. Nick was talking to him for a few minutes trying to get him to talk to the police. Almost had him calmed down, then he lost it."

"What do you mean?" Catherine sounded like she was on the move, no longer in the lab. "Where are you?"

"Greg and I are on our way over. Listen, he found Nick's phone and freaked. The line went dead. We have no better idea of what's going on now than you do." Her next words caused him to close his eyes momentarily and take a calming breath in. "I think he may have gone after Nick again."

Not wanting dwell on that thought, he responded, "Anything else?"

"No."

"We'll see you when you get here." Grissom ended the call and walked over to Brass to bring him up to speed. Warrick and Sara hovered in the back, just close enough to listen to the update.

Brass was about to put the phone down when he got an answer.

"Yeah?" The voice on the other end was tense and apprehensive.

Considering that the line had been ringing for so long, it caught Brass off guard, but he recovered quickly. "Hey. My name is Jim Brass. I'm a detective with the Las Vegas Police Department. Listen, we're trying to figure out what's going. What we can do to help you, help the people in side with you. Can you tell me your name?" There was a smile to Jim's voice, as if he was catching up on old times with a buddy.

Seeing that Brass had gotten an answer, Grissom, Sara and Warrick went over to the audio system, all three trying to share a set of head phones so they could eavesdrop on the conversation.

"You want my name?"

"Sure. It'd be the polite thing to do. Don't want to refer to you as 'hey, you.' You can call me Jim." Brass continued with the pleasantries. He hoped to gain his trust. He already knew the man's name, but he wasn't about to upset the him by letting him know they already had a good idea on what had been happening inside.

The big guy sighed into the phone. "Jack."

"Great. Jack it is. Listen, Jack, if we get cut-off for any reason, just know you can pick up the phone and it'll ring directly on my end, okay?" There was nothing but silence, so he continued. "So, people outside the bank said they heard gunfire in there. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

He received a curt reply. "No."

"Good. Is anyone else hurt? We just want to make sure we can get anyone who is hurt some help."

"Yeah. Yeah. There's two dead." The voice was apprehensive, but one thing Jim Brass knew was that this guy was young. The apprehension told him this probably wasn't a hardened criminal, maybe the first crime this guy had ever committed. Although, why that would be robbing a bank was beyond him. But the fact that he was responding was good. It was like pulling teeth, but he was gonna keep going.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Jack. Who is dead? Can you tell me how many others are there with you? Are they okay?"

"Look, I'm not going chit chat with you guys all morning. There's two of them in here with me. Some guy and a woman. Now you need to tell me what you're gonna do for me."

"Well, what I want to know is what you want for us to do for you?" For now, Brass would let him think he was there to work for him.

"I take it I'm just not walking out of here a free man, am I?"

"No, Jack. I'm sorry. Unfortunately, we can't walk away that easily. Is there anything else I can do for you? Someone I can call for you?" He continued to try and gain his trust.

"No. I don't know."

"Listen, I don't want to rush you too much. But in the meantime, you said there where two other people in there with you? Yeah? Do you think you could let them walk out? I'll stay on the phone with you until you can figure out what you need me to do for you."

"No, way. I let them go, you storm in with guns and it's over for me."

"No, Jack. We're not storming in anywhere. We want to make sure those people in there with you are okay. That you're okay. Can you tell me if they're okay?"

The line was quiet for a few moments. Jack was afraid to say one of his hostages was shot. Shot by him. But not knowing what else to do, he responded anyways. "The lady is fine. They guy got shot." That sentence caused all three CSIs to look at Jim. That confirmation, coming from the hostage-taker himself, was like a kick to their guts.

Brass held in a chuckle at what Jack's definition of fine was. "The guy that got shot, can you tell me where?"

"Shoulder."

"Okay. Is he conscious? Can you tell how bad it is?"

"I don't know, okay. Guy got shot in the shoulder, he's bleeding. I'm not a doctor. I don't know how bad it is."

"Would you be willing to let them go?" He had to keep asking the question, maybe he'd eventually get a 'yes.' "That way we can get them medical attention? We heard the woman with you may be pregnant. She works for the bank and she never made it out with her coworkers. They're worried about her as I am sure you can understand. We'd like to get them some help. It would be to your benefit."

"Well if you know I got the pregnant woman in here, what else do you know? Did you know the guy in here was a cop?"

Brass did his best to sound surprised. "A cop? No, Jack. That's news to me. I didn't know. But I'm glad you're sharing this information with me. Shows me you want to work with me here. The more info we share with each other, the better, right?"

"I don't believe you."

"Come on, Jack. What did I ever do to make you think I'd lie to you? We'll work with you. It'll be easier to work with you if you show some good will and let them go, especially if they're hurt."

"Nah, man. Nah. I'm not ready to do that yet."

"Okay. Okay. You thought about what you want? Maybe we can exchange something for a hostage. Hey, you hungry?"

"What? Do you think I'm just gonna exchange one of them for a sandwich or something?" He couldn't believe they thought he was that dumb.

"I was just getting hungry myself, Jack. Making sure you weren't hungry too."

"I'm not ready to deal yet man." Then he hung up. Jim knew they were in trouble if this guy didn't even know what the hell he wanted.

---------------------------------------------------

Nick heard every word of Jack's conversation with Brass. Wasn't too hard to imagine Jim's own questions and responses. He even imagined Brass using his usual quick wit. He was glad it was Jim on the other end. The man seemed to have a calming effect on the young man. But he was done talking to him. Now he was just roaming the lobby again.

Nick was getting complaints from his stomach, a definite queasy feeling had settled in. He hadn't eaten anything in about 12 hours now, so he knew nothing was going to come up if he started heaving. But heaving of any kind would do a number on his ribs. He was also starting to get a little tired. Probably from blood loss. He'd lost a good bit of blood already, but was sure the bleeding had almost stopped. He hadn't felt that wet feeling spreading as much since Mary wrapped her sweater around his shoulder. That thought caused him to look to his right. Mary was restless next to him. He knew sitting on the hard ground for, what, like two hours now had been uncomfortable for him. How must she have felt in her condition?

"You okay?" He did his best not to attract attention.

Mary gave him a sheepish smile. "I really have to pee. I don't think I have gone this long without a bathroom break."

Nick felt for the woman. But he knew she wasn't going to ask Jack for permission to go to the bathroom, not that there was one to access from the lobby.

"Jack?" Nick sounded as apologetic as he could. The man turned in his direction.

"I'm sorry, but, Mary, she really needs to use the bathroom, man." Mary looked at him in shock. Where was she going to go? Why was he drawing the man's attention to her?

"What? You want me to let her piss in the corner?"

That earned him a horrified look from Mary. Nick picked up on it and continued. "No, Jack. I think you should let her go, man. She's pregnant. She's gonna have to go to the bathroom like every hour on the hour. It's the way they are. It'll be easier for you to just send her out."

Jack began shaking his head, but Nick pressed on before he could say anything else.

"Have you thought of anything you need? Maybe you can exchange that for her, you know?"

He took a second to think. "I want outta here. If I'm gonna get caught anyway might as well make a run for it. If they catch me, they catch me. And one of you is coming with me."

Nick knew he wouldn't get far, but he wasn't about to share that with him. He sat up straight and tried to act like he understood Jack's plan, if you could call it that. "Okay. Okay, man. I get that. If you take one of us, take me, okay?"

Jack snorted. "Somehow I don't think you'll be the easier one to deal with."

"I would be Jack. I would be. Look at her. She's about to give birth. Like I said, she'll be needing to pee all the time. Probably start crying and drawing attention to you wherever you go. Plus, she can't move very fast. Just look at her."

All eyes seemed to focus on Mary, making her very uncomfortable.

"I can probably move faster than she can, but I'm in no condition to fight you on anything. Plus, like you said, I'm a cop. I know what they'll be planning. If what you want is out, I'll get you out. They won't put another cop in danger. You're safe as long as you're with me." To most, the words spilling from his mouth would sound like bologna. It sounded like bull to him. But Nick had a feeling Jack was buying it. He was listening. If he could at least get Mary out of here, it would all be worth it. He wouldn't play hero, not until she was away from Jack.

Jack turned away from them for a moment to think. Again he walked back to the window to peek through the blinds. From where he stood, he looked back at Nick and nodded. "What do we do?"

--------------------------------------------

It had been forty-five minutes since they'd had any contact from Jack. Catherine and Greg had long since arrived, joining the others in their vigil. They all anxiously waited for some word. S.W.A.T. had wasted no time and had positioned themselves in several locations. Two sharpshooters were positioned on the rooftops of neighboring buildings, with clear views of the bank. Two sets of officers in full-out protective gear were poised on either side of the glass and brick building, on the look out for any activity from the front doors. Other tactical officers were placed strategically around the building ready to receive and carry out orders from their superiors.

When the phone finally rang again, Brass ran to assume his position as the happy-go-lucky negotiator. Catherine and Grissom shared a headset while the rest of the graveyard shift looked on.

"Hey, Jack. Longtime no talk. Have you figured out what I can do for you?

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"I figured it out. I want a car. No tricks. I don't care what you said before. I want to get out of here otherwise you got some trouble with the hostages."

"Now come on, don't say things like that, Jack. We won't cause any problems for them."

"Well, then, that's it. I want out. You catch me later, so be it. But I'm getting outta here with one of them. You follow me, they're dead." The kid was doing his best to sound tough for the veteran detective.

"I hear you Jack. Listen, it'll take me sometime to put together some transportation for you. In the meantime, how about an exchange? One of them for the transportation? I'll even throw in some lunch while you wait. Make sure you guys have provisions for your trip. What do you say?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Okay. This is great, Jack. Who will you be letting go?" Brass didn't even have to ask the question. He knew the answer. And from the looks on the CSIs' faces, they knew too.

"The woman." It was what he was expecting to hear. No way Nicky would let anyone else stay behind in this situation, especially a pregnant woman.

"Okay. So here's the deal. I'll get started on a car for you cause I got nothing but marked cop cars here now. And I'll let you know when I get it. Give me 20 minutes and I'll have a box of drinks and stuff placed in front of the doors. No tricks, okay. I'll even put some first aid stuff in there for the guy. The lady will come out, slide it into the bank and she'll then come to us. Sound good to you?"

"Okay. Yeah."

"Good. You're a man of few words, Jack. Anyone ever tell you that? A little favor to ask, though, since we're both working so well together. How about you let me talk to the guy real quick since you're gonna take him with you anyway. I just want to make sure he's okay."

Brass thought that last request had cost him the line of communication they had established. The silence was deafening. Then he heard Jack mutter 'want to talk to ya.' He heard a muffled grunt, surely from Nick, and after a minute, he was rewarded with a very sweet sound. Nick's voice.

"Hello?" He sounded a little worse for wear, but he was alive.

"Nick. Boy am I glad to hear your voice."

"Yeah, me too."

"You okay?"

"Kinda."

Not wanting to eat up precious time, Brass stopped all thoughts of the injured man. "Listen, we got a pretty good idea what's going on. The guy in there, he's a young kid from the sound of it."

"Yeah." As much as he wished he could give them more details, he figured single word answers were the only thing Jack should hear him give.

"We're not letting him take off with you. Pay attention, in a nut shell, here's the plan."

-----------------------------------------------

Nick now sat to the left of Mary. Not wanting to sit back down in the spot already stained with his blood. It was Jack's "inexperience," for a lack of a better word, that had allowed him to stay on the phone as long as he did. It was Jim's experience that allowed him to get as much information to him in such a short amount of time. After they hung up, Jack told them about the plan for Mary to pull in the box of provisions and leave. By his estimation, that should be happening any moment now.

Mary continued to squirm on the floor. But that didn't stop her from giving him sad, appreciative glances, knowing full well that it was because of him that she would be leaving. She held his hand as they waited. It was then that they heard Brass again on the bullhorn.

"Jack, we have an unarmed officer placing the box in front of the left door now. When you're ready, let's do as we planned. We're close to getting your vehicle."

Jack peaked through the window farthest from the door and spotted a man placing a box out front. He looked to Mary and instructed her to go.

Mary looked from Jack to Nick. She squeezed his hand and he responded in kind, letting her know it was okay for her to go.

"It'll be okay. You'll be sure to call me when you have that baby, you hear?"

Mary smiled and nodded. Afraid to lose the little control she had over her emotions, she leaned towards Nick and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Nick."

Her sincerity brought a lump to his throat and he nodded, afraid to let her know she was welcome for fear he'd lose it too. He lifted her hand and allowed him to use his to get up from her sitting position. She walked slowly to the front door and waited for Jack to push the desk to the side. Mary looked back at Nick one last time before opening the door. As best she could, she bent down to pull the box inside. Afraid that Jack would change his mind, she scurried out the door. With her out, Jack wasted no time in pushing the desk back in place.

Nick finally let out the breath he had been holding in.

Tbc

This chapter got a little longer than the rest. Hopefully the flow was good.

More comments welcomed…


	7. Chapter 7

Title: No Easy Task

Chapter 7

Mary sat at the back of an ambulance, a pressure cuff wrapped securely around her right arm. The moments between her run out the front doors of the bank to now feeling like they'd happened a lifetime ago. As she had stepped out of the bank, her only instinct was to go. Get away from the building as quickly as her feet would take her. Twenty feet from the doors, she felt, before she saw, two officers on either side of her. All she knew was that each man, dressed head to toe in black and wearing thick bullet-proof vests and helmets, had slipped a hand under each of her harms and practically carried her away to a safe spot on the other side of emergency vehicles.

She seemed to have a welcoming committee waiting for her. She was met by several people: a stout, balding man in a drab brown suit, a gold shield on his jacket indicating he was someone of authority; a tall black man with piercing green eyes and clenched fists at his sides; a fidgety, spiky haired man, or boy – he didn't look too old; a worried redhead who kept brushing bothersome hair from her face; a gap-toothed brunette, her arms firmly crossing her chest; and a stern older man with a graying beard. Worry seemed to radiate from them all except the last one. She couldn't read him at all. What she could pick up on was that they must have all known Nick. The brown suit guy, he made the introductions and was starting to ask questions, but she cut him off.

Mary bent forward, drawing concerned stares from the group, all afraid that the woman was going into labor. Brass was calling out for paramedics when Mary realized what they must have been thinking. "No. I'm okay!" Her expression of alarm switching to embarrassment. "Please, I just need to use the bathroom."

The group looked at each other with slight amusement. But it was Catherine that understood what the poor woman was feeling, knowing full well she never allowed herself to be too far from a bathroom when she was pregnant with Lindsay. "Mary, right?"

Mary nodded, hoping relief would come soon.

Catherine smiled and placed her arm across the woman's back. "Come on, Mary. We'll walk next door and come back here right after." Her statement telling the others there would be no questioning until Mary did whatever she needed to do. With that, Catherine escorted her to the restaurant next to the bank. Besides Nick, the redhead was Mary's other angel.

A short ten minutes later, Mary was feeling better, the paramedics took her vitals to make sure she was well enough to withstand the police's questioning. Once they got the green light, Brass began.

"You feeling alright, Mary, relatively speaking, to answer some questions?" He spoke to her in the same assuring tone, hoping she'd stay calm and collected unlike her coworker.

Mary gripped the blanket now laying over her shoulders and took a sip from the water bottle Catherine had given her. The same group that greeted her before was now gathered around her again. "Yeah. Yes. Were do I start?"

"Let's just start at the beginning. When everything started." Mary took in a breath and gave the same account that the teller had given them, but she was more concise and to the point. She told them of how the man had ordered her to the floor, against the teller's counter where Nick sat bleeding from the gunshot wound. About the beating Nick took after realizing he was with the police department. And about the discovery of the cell phone which had earned Nick a smack to the head with his gun. About Jack's demeanor.

"Mary, can you tell me about the extent his injuries, about Nick?"

"He kept saying he was okay, but he was in a lot of pain. Kept trying to talk to Jack, the robber. Got through to him a couple of times and calmed him down, but that guy's not right in the head, you know? Took a lot for him to talk as much as he did. He has a couple of cuts and bumps on the head, but he only blacked out for a little while after the first time Jack hit him. And the gunshot, Nick said he thought it wasn't bleeding too much. Must have gone out the back because he had some blood on the back of his jacket too. I did what I could and wrapped my sweater around it to put more pressure on it. But I think he lost a lot of blood. He was sweaty and a little glassy in the eyes. And his hands were clammy." Talking about Nick's condition upset her. They knew her concern for their colleague was genuine and it didn't surprise them at all. Nick had a way of endearing himself to just about anyone he met.

Brass knew they needed to get Nick out of there sooner rather than later. "What can you tell me about weapons? Did you see how many he had?"

Mary took another sip of water. "His partner had the shotgun. It's still lying near him, I think. Jack had a handgun. Has that one in the waistband of his pants. It was Nick's that he's been carrying in his hand. Ernie, the guard, had one too, but I didn't see if he took it." They were amazed by her composure.

"You're doing great, Mary. We're almost done. I just need you to tell me where Nick is sitting in the lobby?"

"Like I said, he was against the counter, sitting on the floor. The counter is about 25 or 30 feet back from the entrance. Nick was sitting almost to the far left of the counter. I guess that's another 30 feet to the left of the front doors. Jack has a desk blocking the front doors, otherwise its just the open lobby with two other desks up front for customer service."

"Good. Sounds about right from the blueprints I've seen. Listen. You've been a great help, Mary. I'm going to let the paramedics take you to the hospital just as a precaution. We want to make sure you and the baby are okay. Alright?" Mary nodded and received a small smile of thanks from the detective.

She reached out and grabbed his arm before he left. "Detective Brass?"

"Yes?"

"He says he plans on leaving with Nick."

"Yeah, that's what he says, but we're not going to let that happen." An assurance of that was all he thought she wanted.

But Mary pressed on. "I'm just thinking, he reminds me of my teenage son." Jim's brow furrowed at that statement.

"What I mean is he doesn't really have a plan for what he's going to do an hour from now."

"Yeah. I got the same feeling from him."

"I think he only asked for the transportation because everyone kept asking what he wanted and he didn't have an answer. Nick could see it, so could I. He wants to give up, he just doesn't know how to do it. Keeps mentioning you guys shooting him for what he did. He shot Nick, but he keeps saying he's not a threat. It's his emotions that have made him so scary in all this."

Grissom's voice surprised them all. "That's usually what gets in the way."

With that, Mary was loaded into the ambulance and taken away from scene.

Brass faced his investigators. "We'll call again. Give him one more shot to come out, otherwise, it's a go with the plan."

-----------------------------------------------

Inside, Jack rummaged through the box Mary had pulled into the bank. The cops had given them some water, wrapped sandwiches, chips and the first aid box the detective had said he'd throw in there. Jack grabbed a bottle of water, cracked it open and took a greedy drink. He was tired and confused. He shouldn't be here now and he didn't know how long he was going to be able to keep this up. And he certainly didn't want to die.

Turning back to the injured man, he grabbed a second bottle and the first aid kit. "You want some water?"

"Yeah. Water would be good. Thanks." Nick was feeling every bit as tired and winded as if he'd just run a marathon.

Jack walked over to Nick and handed him the water. He bent down and placed the first aid kit on the floor next to him. "I don't know your name." It was a statement, not a question.

Nick didn't really feel like talking, but the kid's behavior had once again leveled off. Killers don't usually ask for their victims' names, most preferring as much detachment as possible. "Nick. My name's Nick."

"Nick." They spent a few more minutes in silence as Nick opened his bottle and took a sip of water. Just enough to wet his dry mouth. His stomach might rebel with anything more than that.

"This really wasn't supposed to go like this, you know?" Jack picked at the label of the bottle he held. "We just wanted to get some money to get us by for a while." Jack walked over to Tommy's cold body and kneeled by his friend. Nick didn't say a word and allowed him to continue.

"Just tired of living the way we were. You know, we became friends because we both came from really screwed up homes. We met in school. Even there we were considered delinquents. Of course we probably were, but no worse than some of the other kids. And our parents, if you could call them that, didn't think much better of us." He got back up and walked to the other side of the lobby while continuing to pick at the bottle. "It was because of him that I had a place to live after my dad threw me out of the house. Guess he I got too old for him to beat. I was like seventeen. Had no idea what I was going to do. Then Tommy let me stay at his place, but his dad was a drunk and thought I was just a leech or something and wouldn't let me stay. But he didn't care what his dad said and he'd let me sneak in at night. And I'd sneak out in the morning which wasn't hard cause his dad was always passed out by then."

Jack walked over to the counter and leaned his elbows on the marble surface, almost as if in a trance. "One night, he barged into his room, saw me sleeping on the floor next to Tom's bed. He was drunk and pissed like I've never seen anyone. Even worse than my old man. Started yelling and pulled me up by my shirt and hit me hard. And he kept going. Tommy freaked, thinking he was gonna kill me. So did I. I thought that was it, you know?" He looked down at Nick.

He knew that feeling. "Yeah, I know what that's like."

Jack could see he did and quickly looked away. "Yeah. Tommy went after him. Never had anyone defend me like that. He knocked him on his ass. The old man was in shock. Didn't dare fight back, but then he kicked his own son out on his ass." He walked over to a desk across from Nick and dropped his weary body into a chair. It was the first time all morning he'd done anything to show his guard was down.

"That's not what parents are supposed to do, right?"

Nick shook his head. "No, man, they're not. You deserved better than that. Sounds like you guys were real close."

"Yeah. It's been just the two of us for a longtime now."

Seemingly lost in his thoughts, the man remained quiet. But Nick knew he had to keep him talking. Nick was starting to get lightheaded. There was no way he'd be conscious for very long if he went with Jack on his trip to who know where. He was sure Jack didn't even know. "Jack, I don't want to see you get hurt more than you've already been in your life."

They made eye contact again. "What's going to happen if they catch me?"

Nick took a moment think about that. It wasn't going to be what he wanted to hear, but if he wanted the truth, so be it. "Do you mean if you leave here with me or if you surrender?"

"What's the difference?"

Nick sat up a little straighter even though it caused his vision to swim a little. He took a deep breath in and spoke. "Difference is you leave here with me, adds a kidnapping charge to everything else they may charge you with. You take off with a hostage, they see you as more of a danger, whether it's to me or to the public in general. More people will be after us. Could mean the difference between both of us getting past this alive."

Jack listened.

"I got to tell you, Jack. I'm not feeling too good. I don't know how far I'll make it with you. And I don't know how that'll have them react."

The man sucked in a deep breath of his own and let it out in a great sigh. "What about if I, um, what about if I just give up?"

"If you were to surrender? We'd give Detective Brass a call. Let him know you wanted to end this. Let him know you're unarmed, make sure they know that so no one gets nervous when they see you come out." Never had Nick felt so hopeful in his life.

"Then I just walk out? They won't shoot?"

"I won't let them, Jack. You'll have to leave all the guns here. We'll walk out together. You'll have to get on the ground and then they'll come handcuff you. But I'll stay right by your side so nothing will happen to you."

"Yeah, I've heard that before."

"Look at me, Jack. I mean it, man." Nick was as earnest as he could be, and communicated that with his eyes. Jack didn't seem to be the kind of guy that looking too far down the road ahead. He just wanted to know what was going to happen next and Nick didn't expand beyond that.

It was all it took for something to click in Jack's head. "So what do I do?"

The phone began ringing again, startling both men. Jack looked to Nick and Nick motioned to the phone. "Help me up. I'll tell them we're coming out together. Make sure they know we're unarmed. Let them know we're not looking to cause trouble." Nick's use of the word 'we' appeased the younger man.

Tbc…

I think this story is almost done, only a couple of chapters left to put out at most, but we'll see. Didn't want to make this into too long of a saga.

Thanks to everyone for their reviews.


	8. Chapter 8

Title: No Easy Task

Chapter 8

The team stood by as Brass headed back to the phone to call Jack again. It was past noon now and each passing second only increased the levels of frustration they were feeling. One hostage had been released, but it felt like nothing was being done to get the remaining one out. Seemed like every officer on site was just standing around waiting for orders.

Warrick gnawed on the inside of his cheek and shook his head at what he considered to be an inane attempt to reason with an irrational individual. "This is stupid, Grissom. Kid in there's got a gun on a CSI, an injured one at that. Why they giving him so much time?"

Grissom remained where he stood with his arms crossed in front of him, staring ahead as Brass initiated the call. "He already shot him once, Warrick. And he's alive. They can't risk setting the guy off and putting Nick in any more danger than he's already in."

"Grissom, how can you be so damn calm through all of this?" Catherine was exacerbated by his cool demeanor and was quick to snap at him. "How you're able to stay calm while Nick's in there is beyond me." The frazzled woman was about ready to jump out of her skin. Her supervisor seemed to be the only one keeping his emotions in check, just like he did in every situation and every task he ever encountered. Friend being held hostage? Explaining the life cycle of the Tachinid Fly? Filing your taxes? They were all the same to Gil Grissom.

"Guys, come on. This isn't helping." Greg was upset by the whole situation too, but this wasn't going to be any easier if they started biting each other's heads off.

But Catherine's harsh tone seemed to get under Grissom's skin. He spun around so quickly to face his subordinates that they all took a small step back. "Catherine, as much as I'd like to go in there and put an end to this myself, I can't. You see these men out here? They're trained to deal with things like this with as little loss of life as possible. We just have to wait. Our part comes after. But that doesn't mean I'm happy about it and it doesn't mean I'm not concerned about one of my guys being in there." With that, Grissom turned back in search of Brass, leaving them to eye each other in surprise. The slight escape of emotion shocking the people that worked with him. Maybe he was human after all.

Brass had overheard the little exchange between the investigators. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want to just run into the bank, guns blazing, and take down the asshole in there. But he wasn't willing to risk the life of a hostage, whether it was Nick Stokes or not, just so he could put an end to this miserable day. Focusing on the task at hand, he listened intently as the phone rang for a fifth and then a sixth time. Then it was answered by same man he had just been thinking about.

"Jim?" His voice reflected the way he was feeling – drained and ready to go home and sleep for days.

Brass nodded into the phone. "Yeah, kid. It's me. Glad to hear your voice, but I was hoping to talk to your buddy in there. Try to get him to listen to reason again." He found Gil's face amongst the group at the command center and made a gesture towards the phone so he could listen in. Grissom took two steps and had the head phones to his ears in no time at all.

"I think I can spare you the trouble." Brass raised his brows at the Texan's statement. "We're ready to come out. But there are a few conditions. Not asking for much."

"I'm listening Nick. Whatever will get us out of this hot Vegas sun." He shared a disbelieving look with Grissom.

"We're coming out together, Jack and I. I'm coming out first, he'll follow behind me." Nick needed to take a few extra breaths to get every word out.

"Unarmed, I assume?"

"Yeah, unarmed. All weapons stay in here."

"Nick, we know he had access to at least four weapons."

"Yeah, I know. They'll all stay here, inside."

"Okay, anything else?"

"Gotta have SWAT stand down. No one near the entrance, no surprises, Jim."

"No surprises, Nicky." Brass signaled to the rest of the team with a nod of the head that, finally, something good was happening.

"He'll come out, get down and you'll need to come cuff him. Has to be you."

"That's it?"

A deep sense of relief emanated from Nick's words. "That's it."

"Good. Don't know how happy people will be to hear that."

Nick let out a soft snort as he pictured the graveyard shift in his mind. "I bet."

"How soon?"

"Soon as you tell me the front's clear and you're ready."

"Okay. I'm giving the order now. Give them a minute and look outside, you'll see SWAT pulling back. We're ready when you are."

"'kay."

"See you in a few, Nicky."

Brass placed the phone down with a sigh. "They're coming out."

----------------------

Nick placed the receiver in the cradle and looked back at Jack. "You ready to do this, man?"

He'd become sulky and withdrawn since Nick had gotten on the phone. The fear of walking outside the lobby doors, of what was eventually going to happen to him, of what was going to happen to Tommy, and whether his family would even claim him, had the man feeling numb. All he could do was nod.

"I need you to put the weapons down, Jack. We can't go out there with anything on us." Nick swayed where he stood and reached for the desk to steady himself. He didn't want to rush him, but he didn't know how long he was going to be able to stay vertical on his own. This was his first time standing since he fell to the ground earlier that morning. A fat drop of sweat trickled down his left cheek, but the goose bumps on his arms and the shivers that traveled up his spine confirmed that the a/c was working and maybe a little to well at that.

Without a sound, the large man deposited Nick's service piece onto the desk. He then reached back with his right hand and retrieved his own weapon from where it had been tucked into his pants and placed it next to the police-issued Glock.

"Have anything else?"

"No. I'm done."

"Okay. Let's go."

He thought maybe he'd whispered his last words because Jack stood in place, his legs firmly rooted to the cold marble floor.

"Jack? I'm here with you. We're going out together. Detective Brass is going to meet us outside, no one else."

Jack's dull brown eyes connected with Nick's own and he began taking little steps to the door. Nick was thankful that he didn't have to work too hard to keep up with him, but no matter how slow their pace, each small step jarred his injured upper body and he bit his lip to keep from voicing his discomfort.

They stopped at the doors and Jack pushed the barricade over to the side once more. Nick stepped forward and peered through the blinds to make sure the coast was clear. He could see the barrier of police cruisers out front. SWAT and uniforms were hunkered down behind the vehicles. In the center of it all was Jim Brass, slightly hunched over but making his appearance known to Nick and his captor.

"It's clear." Nick looked back at the man. Jack took that as his queue to unlock and open the door, allowing Nick to head out first.

Despite the amount of people gathered outside, Jim Brass could swear he could hear of heard a pin drop in the stillness that surrounded him. But it wasn't the sound of a pin falling that he heard in the next few minutes, but the sound of a lock turning and a door opening.

They'd followed through. SWAT had retreated from their positions near the building. Didn't mean they hadn't left the sharpshooters in place, just in case Jack was the one to bring any tricks to the party. Jim just hoped they wouldn't be needed.

After what felt like an eternity, a battered Nick Stokes gingerly stepped outside. It was the first time his team had seen him since just before the end of their shift, each responding differently to the sight before them: Catherine held a hand over her mouth, a new urge to cry washing over her; Warrick stood as still as could be, the usual hands on hips, the only movement coming from nostrils that flared with each heavy breath he expelled; Greg resumed the same nervous bathroom dance he had performed back at the lab while listening to the only connection they had to Nick; Sara's eyes filled with tears as she held her hands together in front of her mouth as if in prayer; and Grissom? As much as he wanted to be the picture of the unflappable superior, the sight of his CSI caused him drop his arms from across his chest and an absolute look of sorrow washed across his features.

The man before them was dead on his feet. His body rocking back and forth as he progressed further out from the nightmare he'd experienced. His clenched jaw and rapid breathing all signs of the pain and the nerves that were flooding his system.

Once he had cleared the door, a taller figure appeared behind Nick, arms outstretched from his body. The officers tensed at seeing the large man emerge, but they remained in their positions.

Captor and captive made their way out, about ten feet down the walkway, when Nick came to a stop. He slowly turned, blinked a few times and looked up at Jack. "Okay. Just like I said. Down on your knees, lie on the ground. Nice and sl-slow."

Jack responded with another nod and followed the instructions he was given, slowly lowering himself to a kneeling position, one at a time, then placing his hands on the ground to lower himself to the pavement.

Once he saw that Jack was down, he looked back for Jim and nodded, not knowing if he had the energy to speak anymore. Brass never hesitated once Nick gave him the sign. He cautiously walked across the parking lot, wanting to ask Nick if he was alright as he passed him. But he knew he needed to make sure that Jack was taken care of first. He reached the man lying on the floor and wordlessly kneeled next to him, grabbed his wrists one at a time and secured them behind his back in steel handcuffs.

After patting down the young man to confirm there were no other weapons on him, Jim called out to his friend. "Nicky?"

Nick was in a daze as he watched Jack being cuffed. A thousand different things were going through his mind. Pain, confusion, disbelief and relief were making things fuzzy. Someone was calling his name, but there was pounding in his head that was making everything hard to see and hear now. All he could think to do was to walk forward to find someone to help him, but his feet wouldn't cooperate and he stumbled. The last thing he heard before he hit the ground was that same voice yelling.

Tbc…

This is the penultimate chapter. I hope everyone is enjoying reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Lots of thanks for all of the positive reviews. Especially to everbetty for her advice. I think this went a little differently then I first intended because of your words of wisdom.


	9. Chapter 9

No Easy Task

Chapter 9

He was floating. And he would have been perfectly content had it not been for the voices he was hearing. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, except for a male voice saying something about football. Maybe he'd left the TV on again. Must have fallen asleep to Sportscenter. Had he missed a good game? His eyes were too heavy to open and check the screen, his lids feeling like they were made of lead. Maybe he'd try again in a little bit, he thought. He just needed another 5 minutes of shut-eye. Those damn double-shifts were killers. They left him feeling so drained, like he could sleep for weeks. So for now, he'd just lay there, letting his body wake up slowly. He'd get up when he was ready. If only he could shut-off his TV without moving. The low chit-chat was distracting him from his snooze. No biggie. He'd have to get up sooner or later for work. Get back to working on the Quince party murders. They never really got that far into it for some reason. Why was that? They'd come back to the lab, had placed all their evidence in one of the layout rooms. Greg got to whining about something or the other. Then his grandmother called him for the thousandth time about the stupid birthday check. He'd gone to the bank, hadn't he? His mind got little fuzzy as he tried to remember. He had to think for a minute. He'd left the lab, was going to the bank when everyone started asking for breakfast. In his mind he could picture being at the bank and scribbling his name on the back of a check and then….it all came back at once: the gunshots, someone kicking him, a gun in his face, a teary pregnant woman, a large, armed man pacing a lobby, and Jim asking him if he was okay. The images were running through his head like a trailer for some bad B movie. They came so fast he startled awake, his eyes flying open as he gasped for breath. He wanted to move, to get up but he was flat on his back and couldn't get his left arm move from where it lay across his middle. That freaked him out even more. He clenched his eyes shut as a bolt of pain shot across his shoulder and chest. The voices were back and he could make out what they were saying, to relax and take a few deep breaths. Okay. So he did. He wished he was back to the floating feeling; he was feeling no pain then.

After a minute, his breathing was back to normal. The pain had eased off a little. He opened his eyes and saw the worried faces of his colleagues. They were all gathered around him, Catherine and Warrick to his right and Greg and Sara to his left. Where was Grissom, he wondered?

"Nicky?" It was only one word, but he knew Catherine was in full-fledged motherly-mode.

He laid there and took another minute to put the pieces together – the bank robbery, getting shot, Jack, the fact that he must be in the hospital. The extra minute only increased the team's looks of concern.

Wanting to rid them of those looks, he responded, "Yeah." That didn't sound like him. His mouth was dry, but he swallowed anyway.

"Hey, bro, good to see you're back to the land of the living." The worry was gone and Warrick gave him a genuine smile of relief.

"Yeah, Nick. If you didn't want to feed us, you could have just said so." Greg hoped the quip would hide how nervous he'd been feeling for his friend.

Greg's hair was spikier than ever, Nick noticed. He wondered if he had ever seen it that crazy. "Things I'll do…" Nick croaked.

The door opened and Sara and Greg suddenly moved away from the bed to make room for a short Latino man in a white lab coat, his salt and pepper hair and matching goatee making him appear distinguished. "Mr. Stokes? Well, we're certainly glad to see you're awake. You've had a lot of people waiting to see you. I'm Dr. Rodriguez. I've been taking care of you since you were brought in."

"How long?" Nick replied, wincing at how parched he was.

Noticing his patient's discomfort, the doctor filled a small pink cup with water and brought it to his lips. "Small sips for now, Mr. Stokes." Having lifted his head to take a drink, Nick took the prescribed number of sips and placed his head back on the pillow. Just moving his head caused some pain.

"You've been here over 24 hours now, Mr. Stokes."

"It's Nick. Call me Nick." He didn't like being called 'Mr. Stokes', reminded him of his father.

"Nick it is." The doctor read the monitors next to the bed and scribbled some information onto the chart, then placed it on the tray table. He pulled out his pen light and checked his patient's pupils causing him to hiss in discomfort.

Satisfied with what he saw, he returned the penlight to his pocket. "Sorry about that, Nick. I needed to make sure everything was okay there with your head."

He heard someone snort followed by a mumbled 'I don't think that's possible'. He recognized the voice – Greg. Nick turned to the doctor. "So….what's the story?"

Dr. Rodriguez took in a breath. "Well, you want the full length version or the Cliff Notes?"

"Cliff Notes."

The Latino man grabbed the chart and scanned it just to make sure he didn't forget anything. "Well, you were brought in with a GSW to the left shoulder. Bullet went out the back, hit no bones, but you did have a good amount of muscle damage. Fixed that up and immobilized your arm there so you don't jostle your shoulder. Lost a lot of blood before you got here, so we had to top you off. You have extensive bruising to your chest and abdomen. X-rays revealed couple of fractured ribs. Your friends told me you've had those before, so I don't need to tell you too much about that. You received a pretty good knock to the head. CT scan ruled out any intercranial bleeding. You have a mild concussion, which I am also told you've experienced before, so that was a concern. Last, but not least, you had a couple of deep lacerations on your head. They've been sutured up and should heal nicely."

"That was the short version?"

Dr. Rodriguez laughed. "Well, you were a mess when you came in here, so yes."

"How long am I staying?"

"Two or three more days at the very least. We have you on a pretty heavy dose of antibiotics to make sure no infection sets in. And you're on the good stuff to keep you comfortable while you stay with us. Another dose of which you're due to get really soon. It will make you very drowsy. If you want to visit with your friends here, I can let the nurse know to hold off for a little while longer. That okay?"

"Yeah."

The doctor closed the chart and was getting ready to head out of the room. "I'll let her know. If you don't have any questions, Nick, I'll see you during the evening rounds?"

"No. Not right now."

"Okay, see you then." With that, the distinguished Dr. Rodriguez left the room.

Nick fumbled with the panel on the bed rail.

Sara approached the bed again. "What are you doing, Nick?"

"Hard to see you guys flat on my back."

"Let me get that." Sara reached over the rail and elevated his head a little, not wanting to raise it too much.

"Thanks, Sar. Better." His colleagues were easier to see now. Nick scanned the room and finally spotted Grissom just beyond the foot of his bed. "Hey, Gris."

Grissom nodded at the younger man. "How are you feeling, Nicky?"

"Not too bad so long as I don't move." Nick ran his right hand across the top of his head, taking stock of the bandages there. His fingers lingered over a small portion of shaved scalp that was left uncovered by one of the bandages.

Warrick grinned. He could read Nick Stokes. "You're gonna be sporting some 'do there, boss."

"Yeah, guess so."

"It's not so bad, Nick. Maybe Greg can match the other side. Maybe even match it to the way he wore it a few years back, remember?" Catherine smiled for the first time in two days.

"I think I'll stick to my cap."

"Sorry, man. Cap along with all your clothes are in evidence. We'll have to get you a new one," Warrick responded.

Catherine grabbed his right hand, making sure not to mess with the pulse oximeter on his index finger. "Doc said that despite the laundry list of things he had to fix, you'll heal completely."

Nick raised his eyebrows. "Forgot to ask. How long til I'm normal?"

Gil Grissom could also read Nick Stokes. "On leave? Probably a few weeks. You'll probably need a few months of physical therapy to regain full range of motion in your shoulder, then you'll need to be cleared by your doctor and retake the firearms test before going back out into the field. You'll be in the lab until then."

"Sounds like fun."

"Better than the alternative. Got lucky it ended the way it did," Sara piped in.

Nick shook his head. "I don't think it really would have ended any other way."

They looked at him quizzically.

"They were young and desperate and made a really stupid choice. Jack had no intention of taking off with me. He had no idea where he would have gone much less what he would have done with me."

Sara's emotions were still fresh from the day before. "We saw what he did to you already. I don't want to think of what he would have done if he'd taken off with you, Nick."

"He shot me in all the confusion of the robbery. But I don't think he would have made the conscious choice to kill me after," Nick reasoned.

"Yeah, well, Brass said he's been quiet as a mouse since they took him in. He's got plenty of charges to face as it is. Guess he's contemplating his future in prison," Warrick replied.

Grissom pursed his lips and gave Nick a concerned look.

"I know what you're thinking, Gris. My heart's not bleeding for the guy and I'm not willing to see him go scott-free or anything. But I talked to him. I saw him in there. Give me the benefit of the doubt." A little irritation slipped out.

"Got to give him that. Even Mary said the same thing." Catherine didn't want to see him get upset.

"Yeah. Mary, is she okay?" Nick had almost forgotten about the poor woman.

Catherine patted his arm. "She's fine, singing your praises in fact."

"Didn't take much to convince Jack to let her go - painted her as an emotional, always-gotta-pee, about-to-give-birth troublesome hostage. Some of the looks she shot me, thought she was going to start arguing with me." Nick's drawl was a little thicker.

"In this case, I don't think she minded." Greg said.

Nick's eyes were starting to droop. He was getting tired before even having been given his next round of pain meds. And that didn't get past his very observant friends.

Grissom approached the bed. "Nick, we're going to head out. Shift starts in an hour."

"Yeah, Nicky. We'll come by tomorrow to see you." Catherine bent down to kiss his head and stepped away.

"By the way, man, your nurse, Jackie, is really hot. I'll definitely come see you tomorrow." Greg nodded.

Sara smacked Greg on the shoulder. "She's nice, Nick. Don't give her any trouble."

Warrick approached the bed and gave Nick a gentle version of their ghetto handshake. "See ya, man. Feel better."

"Thanks, Rick."

And with that the CSIs left the room. As the door closed, Nick realized how lucky he was to be alive. With a smile on his face, his eyes drifted shut only to open again moments later, when a nurse walked in with a tray in her hands.

She approached his bed, set the tray down and checked the monitors. "Hi, Mr. Stokes. Glad to see you're awake. I'm your nurse, Jackie."

The smile on Nick's face grew wider.

"Well, from the smile on your face, I'd have to say you had a good visit with your friends, huh?"

"Yeah. And it's Nick."

"Okay, Nick. Dr. Rodriguez left orders for some pain meds. I was just waiting for your visitors to leave so I could give them to you, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

"Good." Jackie pulled a few syringes from the tray and deposited their contents into the port of his IV. "You have a good nap, Nick. See you in a bit"

Nick didn't even have a chance to respond, the medications taking effect almost as soon as she had given them to him. He fell back into a restful sleep thinking Greg was right.

----------------------------------------

_3 months later_

Nick walked into the lab a couple of hours before shift carrying a duffel bag over his shoulder. He normally wouldn't have been there that early, but he had just come from court and didn't see the point in going all the way home when he was already so much closer to work anyway. He also had to admit he was excited. Tonight would be his first night back in the field since the bank robbery a few months back. He'd worked his ass off in physical therapy to get his shoulder back to normal. And although his shoulder would bother him after partaking in physical activities, like a game of one-on-one with Warrick, he had his full range of motion back. With that came the okay from his doctor to go out into the field and then the re-taking and passing of the department's firearms exam. He was a free man.

Nick stopped at reception, said hello to Judy and grabbed several messages and a light blue envelope from his 'in' box. He was perusing the messages when he caught sight of a certain redhead. "Hey, Catherine. I thought I was going to beat everyone in today. What're you doing here so early?"

Catherine stopped. She had been headed to the break room for a much needed cup of coffee. "Hey, Nick. No, I have you all beat today. Vega called me in. He hauled in a suspect in that Summerland murder case I told you about yesterday."

"Yeah? How'd that go?"

She signaled for him to follow her, not letting anyone keep her from getting some coffee. "Come with me and I'll tell you."

Nick followed her down the hall and into the break room, listening to her tale of the murder for hire. He was loosening his tie when she noticed what he was wearing. "What's with the monkey suit today, Nick? You don't need to dress up for your first night back in the field." She offered him a cup of the brew.

"Thanks, Cath. I didn't dress for you guys. I was in court."

She looked at the date on her watch and realized what day it was. "Oh. That was today? How did it go?"

Nick had been at the sentencing hearing for Jack. Jackson Stanford. D.A. had wanted to take this case to trial. The story had been big news, especially because a member of the LVPD was a victim. They were going to get him on a number of charges – armed robbery, false imprisonment, attempted felony murder, assault, unlawful possession of a firearm. Once he'd been booked, his prints matched unidentified prints found at several B&Es along with Tommy's. They had planned on getting him for those too. Nick was almost sure they had checked the kid's driving record just in case he had any unpaid parking tickets. The D.A. was up for re-election and assured the public that he wouldn't rest until Jackson Stanford received the harshest punishment allowed by law. Then Jack had pleaded guilty ending the D.A.'s chance to play crime-fighting hero. Jack wasn't going to put up a fight. He'd even been given a psych evaluation because it had been feared he was depressed. He was indeed, but it was determined he was not a danger to himself. The judge certainly didn't want a media circus in his courtroom and promptly, or as promptly as the court docket allowed, set the sentencing hearing for the same day Nick was to head back into the field.

"About the way those thing usually go, I guess. He won't be getting out anytime soon."

"Did you have to speak at all?"

"No. I had nothing to say. I just needed to be there for some reason." Nick nodded and looked down at the light blue envelope that had been left for him. It was addressed to Nick Stokes c/o Las Vegas Crime Lab. He began to open it.

"Yeah, I gotcha." Catherine sipped her coffee and sat down on the sofa. She glanced back at Nick, seeing a big smile spread across his face. Wondering what could have put that expression on his face, she asked, "What are you looking at Nicky? Jackie sending you love notes again? You know Greg still claims he saw her first."

Nick blushed at her comment. "No, nothing to do with Jackie. Take a look at his." He walked across the room, sat next to Catherine and handed her the photo card he had received.

Catherine took the card, her features softening as she stared at the puffy red face of a newborn baby boy. The bottom of the card reading _'Robert Nicholas Jamison, 7 lbs, 11 oz'._ "How adorable! See, I told you you were her hero. She even named her kid after you to prove it."

Nick blushed even more which caused Catherine to chuckle. She handed the card back to him and got up from the couch, patting his leg on the way. "You did good, Nicky." With that she left the room.

"Yeah. Guess I did," he whispered to himself. He was staring at the card when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his jacket and looked at the number calling. Another smile spread across his face and he answered it on the second ring. "Hey, sweetie."

The End

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Hope everyone enjoyed the ending! I had a blast writing this. Thanks again to everyone for their wonderful reviews.


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